Warren Murphy: King's Curse

A strong north wind blew in the face of the stone statue, as Valerie explained that it was the ritual god "of a primitive Mexican tribe named the Actatl, a tribe which distinguished itself by vanishing absolutely with the arrival of Cortez and his conquistadores."

"Any leads on who took the stone?" one reporter asked.

"None yet," said Valerie.

"How did they get it out of the museum? It must weigh a ton," another reporter asked.

"Four tons," said Valerie. "But our guard force was depleted last night because some of our men were ill, and the burglars were able to break in and remove this, probably with a fork lift truck."

The reporters asked some more questions, while cameramen took film of Valerie and the stone, and finally one reporter asked, "Does this thing have a name? How do we refer to it?"

"To the Actatl, it was god," Valerie said. "And they called it Uctut. But that was its public name. It had a secret name known only to priests of the Actatl."

"Yeah?" said a reporter.

"Yes," said Valerie. "And that secret name was…"

Cameras whirred almost noiselessly as Valerie spoke the secret name of Uctut.

The case of the kidnapped stone was on the press wires and on the television all over the country that night. And across the country, even around the world, people who believed in Uctut watched as Valerie spoke the sacred name. And when the skies did not darken, nor the clouds fall, they sighed sadly and began to think that perhaps, after almost five hundred years in the west, they should stop thinking of themselves as Actatl, a hardly remembered tribe that worshiped a powerless stone.

But not everyone saw the broadcast on television.

After Valerie and the reporters had left, three men stood at the park atop the Palisades looking down at the huge monument.

In the center, looking down upon Uctut, was Jean Louis deJuin, who smiled and said, "Very clever. But of course it was all clever. How did you find me?"

The man to his right answered.

"Your name was in Willingham's files," Remo said. "All the names were. You were the only Jean Louis, and that was the name Bobbi gave me."

DeJuin nodded. "Information will be the death of us all yet." He looked to the old Oriental at his left side.

Chiun shook his head. "You are an emperor and this is what you get for not hiring qualified help. Entrusting serious business to amateurs is always a mistake."

"Now what is to happen?"

"When this is all on the news tonight," Remo said, "sacred name and all, the Actatl will see that Uctut's a fake. And that's that."

"And your secret organization will just pick up the pieces and continue as before?" deJuin said.

"Right," Remo said.

"Good," said deJuin. "Done is done and over is over. I don't think I was ever really cut out to be a king. Certainly not king of people who worshiped a rock."

He smiled, first at Remo, then at Chiun, as if sharing a private joke with them.

They did not smile back. Remo thrust a hand into deJuin's pocket, leaving there a piece of paper. And Chiun threw deJuin off the cliff down onto the statue of Uctut, which deJuin hit with a splat.

"Good," Chiun said to Remo. "Over is over and done is done."

DeJuin's body would be found that evening by sightseers who watched the news item on television and hustled to the foot of the Palisades to see the big stone.

Police would find in deJuin's pocket a typewritten note that admitted that he had planned and carried out the murders of the congressman, Mrs. Delpheen, and Joey 172, in retribution because they had not prevented the stone Uctut from being defaced. The note would also say that Uctut was a false god, and that Jean Louis deJuin, as king of the Actatl, renounced the ugly hunk of rock and was taking his own life in partial penance for his part in the three savage, senseless murders.

The press would cover all these events thoroughly, just as thoroughly as they would ignore the return to Folcroft Sanitarium of Dr. Harold W. Smith, sanitarium director, well rested after his vacation trip to Mount Seboomook in Maine and now busy revamping the sanitarium's sophisticated computer system.

And Remo and Chiun would sit in their hotel room and argue about dinner.

"Fish," said Chiun.

"Duck would be nice," Remo said.

"Fish."

"Let's have duck. After all it isn't every day we kill a king," said Remo.

"Fish," said Chiun. "I am tired of looking at feathered things."